


srainnsearan

by PropertyOfThaJoker



Series: The Laddie [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Historical, Regency Era, Scotland, Scottish Highlands, Victorian era, strangers to spouses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:15:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27256285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PropertyOfThaJoker/pseuds/PropertyOfThaJoker
Summary: He took her hand again. The look in his eyes was sincere, as if he wished to soothe her fears; like he wanted to talk to her like he would an old friend. “I want you to see Scarif, to see Chandrila, and eventually Alderaan as your home, Rey, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”A rewrite of “The Laddie.”
Relationships: Kylo Ren & Rey, Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: The Laddie [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1990120
Comments: 12
Kudos: 49





	srainnsearan

**Author's Note:**

> I loved the setting of The Laddie, but thought I could do a better job. This is that attempt. Enjoy. Please tell me what you think.

** November 1830, northern Scotland. **

Miss Rey Johnson admittedly did not know much about the man that was standing before her at the altar in the chapel at Theed Castle, except that his name was Benjamin Buchanan Organa Solo, he was at least six inches taller than her, that he was impossibly pale to look so otherwise healthy, as if he had never seen the sun, and that he had hair as black as night. 

And that he was the Duke of Chandrila. Not a royal, but a duke, nonetheless. 

She’d spent the last three weeks at the Alderaan estate of Theed, being fitted for dress after dress, boots, slippers, and other shoes, and being lathered in the most silky of lotions and creams. The Duke’s mother crammed years of etiquette training into those three weeks, and never made fun of her when she messed up. She assured her that Rey would indeed one day get the hang of it.

The Duke’s godfather performed the ceremony - an older man with a warm smile, his mother, the Dowager Duchess, and his uncle, the Duke of Alderaan, sat in attendance; the only witnesses to this union.

His mother had made it clear that he’d be inheriting the Dukedom of Alderaan, as well, the title which her brother currently held. “And he refused to marry - he had no children, quite obviously. He is much more interested in religion and building things.”  She had also pointed out to her future daughter-in-law, on more than one occasion, that the lands of Alderaan and Chandrila dukedoms were right up against each other. 

They said their vows, were declared husband and wife, and he had kissed her, if only briefly.

Rey watched on as her new husband hugged his mother and kissed her on both cheeks, and shook the hand of his uncle, only to be pulled into a big burly hug from his godfather, the minister. 

They all said their congratulations to her, as well, but Rey barely remembered the content of their words. Soon, her husband ushered her into the carriage that would take them to his castle. 

She sat in the carriage, looking out at the highland landscape, in awe of the mountains.

“You are not angry that I am not taking you back to London?” her husband asked. “I am awfully tired of London. I prefer life here.” 

Rey straightened up, fiddling with the beads on her pale blue dress. “I’ve never been to London, so I cannot really say that I have a preference, your grace.”

At that, the Duke of Chandrila straightened up, as well. “We must rectify that soon, then, and please, I beg of you,” he paused, his eyes softening, “call me Ben.” He then smirked. “Although, you could now insist that I call you ‘your grace.’” 

He is only trying to be polite  , she mused. “I am just Rey, sir.”

“Sir?” He was giving her a kind smirk - it seemed to be a reflex. 

She blushed. “Ben, I mean. I am just Rey.” 

“Well,  _ just  _ Rey,” he mused, pulling back the curtain on the carriage, looking out over the North Sea, “we should be to Embo by nightfall. I have requested that we stop in Pittentrail if only to stretch and have a bite to eat. It’s about halfway between Lairg and Embo.” 

He must have been educated in England, because he didn’t sound like a Scotsman, or, rather, he did, just not like a highlander - not that his mother did, either.

“I prefer the country, and I prefer Scotland.” That much was obvious, she supposed. He was wearing full Highland dress, and there were four thick red stripes running through the tartan of his kilt, indicating the wealth and station that came along with his name; it was obviously not as red as Stuart, but he was not a royal. "My business is here, too. I only ever liked London during season."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

“Is that a Solo tartan or is Chandrillan?” Rey asked. She probably shouldn’t ask so many questions. 

“Chandrilan. There are lots of Solos - the name has been here since the Vikings came, but only the Duke of Chandrila, his children, and his  wife  ,” he emphasized, “can wear Chandrilan tartan.” 

Rey nodded. She had so many more questions to ask of him.  Why did you wish to marry a virtually penniless, simple, country girl such as myself  being the chief among them.  For another time,  she supposed.  Or never. 

“Are you clan chief, then?”

He seemed to be amused by all of her questions. “I am, yes, but as you and I both know, that way of life has been long gone.” 

“And your people fought for the Crown,” she replied. 

He nodded. “Aye, they did.” 

“I don’t know if my people… well… no, I have no idea.” He must have noticed her face.

“Matters not, wife.”

Rey was married to not only a Duke, but a clan chief, it would seem. A very handsome and kind man, too.

She had a clan now. The thought made her warm inside. Even if she did not yet know this man, she eventually would, and she’d have a family with him, or at least, she hoped.

* * *

They learned quite a bit about each other during their carriage ride. Ben was nine and twenty to her nine and ten years. He played the pipes and was a skilled swordsman and horseman. She told him of her fondness for reading, knitting, and that she liked animals. 

“You’ll have all the yarn you want, if you so desire,” he said. “Your quarters have a rather large sitting room, perfect for reading and knitting, I suppose. My mother used to spend hours embroidering there, when I was a lad.” 

Rey couldn’t imagine how large Scarif Castle was, but from what she had gathered, it was rather stately. “Are your stables close to your home?” 

“Very. I’d hate to have to walk too far to get one to attend to them.” He didn’t ask if she rode - he knew that she didn’t. She didn’t even come with a trousseau, which made this situation all the more unbalanced. Her wedding dress had been purchased for her by her now mother-in-law, who had no reason at all to even like her. Surely she had to find it odd that her only son - her only child - a Duke almost doubly over, had insisted on marrying an orphan with a purse that contained but a shilling. Rey found it odd, too. “Couldn’t you have a stable boy fetch it for you?” 

“Oh, I enjoy the horses far too much to give the stable boys that pleasure,” he insisted. “That’s one of my business ventures, horse breeding. I’d have a stable for one hundred horses if it would not make a muck of the entire estate.”

Rey tried not to let her mouth hang open as they turned into the road leading to Scarif. It was the largest castle she had ever seen - not that she had seen too many, but she had seen drawings. It was bigger than any building she’d ever seen, to be sure. “We are home, Just Rey.”

Once at the end of the road, Rey noticed all of the staff standing outside waiting on them. There had to be at least twenty people standing there to greet the Duke and… herself. 

The carriage door opened, and Ben stepped out first, before motioning for her to take his hand.

“Welcome back, your grace!” said several of them at once.

“Thank you,” Ben said with a smile, noticing that Rey was too shy to look any of them in the eye. “Please welcome your new mistress, Her Grace, Rey, the Duchess of Chandrila.”

* * *

Rey was in too much shock to really get a good look at her surroundings. A small woman, Maz, led she and her new husband up the stairs. “Ezra will be off with ye, laddie,” she said with familiarity, “I’ll take care of the mistress.”

She watched Ben walk away to prepare for their wedding night. The thought made her shiver with dread, but she knew it was coming. She supposed that is why she had asked him so many questions during the carriage ride; to distract herself from what she knew was to come. 

“Hera will have dinner for yourself and the Duke delivered to your room shortly,” she said as she opened the door. “I know ya didn’t come with but one trunk of your own, but not to worry - the former mistress sent us your measurements a few weeks ago, and we were able to prepare you enough chemises and dresses for a while.”

“That is kind of you,” she replied, finally letting her jaw drop as Maz opened the door. “This… this is…?” 

“Yours? Yes,” Maz said with a smile. “These were Duchess Leia’s rooms before she went to live with her brother.” The door opened led to a sitting room (it must be the one Ben told her of) with vast harlequin-soldered windows that overlooked the sea. “And your bedroom is through this door,” she continued, leading her through to her room. “It has an even better view of the gardens and water, I think.” 

The bed was vast, making her old one in Plutt’s house seem like a thing for cats, and in this castle, the cats probably had a better bed, truth be told. The woodworking in the headboard was splendid. “We need to get ya out of this dress and into a gown and robe, mistress.”

Rey’s eyes were wide. “Please, call me Rey,” she replied quickly. “I do not believe I’ll ever be used to being mistress of such a place.” 

Maz’s own eyes softened. “Well, I cannot quite call you that, my dear. Wouldna be proper.” 

Rey followed her movements to the wardrobe, watching as she grabbed a chemise and robe. “I call the master, ‘laddie’, so I reckon I could call you ‘lassie’, if that suits you fine.” She nodded, sitting down at the vanity that Maz had pulled her toward. “As bonnie as your hair looks up in these plaits, I need to take them out.” 

Rey looked at her hair - she had barely looked at herself this morning when Ben’s mother helped her to get ready at the church. She rather liked how her hair looked. “Did Duchess Leia fix your hair?” 

“Yes,” she replied, smiling. “She is kind.”

“That she is,” Maz smiled softly. “What a proper lady.” Once her hair was down, Maz gave her a wet rag to clean her face with. “There are more clean rags by the water basin,” she said, and Rey knew why she was letting her know, sending a chill down her spine. Maz began brushing her hair as a younger woman named Hera came in with a cart of food. “Hera, do set that up quickly. No doubt the laddie is already out of dress. He wants ta see his wife.” 

_His wife_ , Rey thought. She swallowed thickly, deciding that she must drink enough wine to get herself through her marital duties. 

Rey stood up as Maz helped her undress, not seeming to suggest that Hera leave the room as Rey was stark naked before them. Maz gently pulled the new, silk chemise over her body, and slipped a robe over her shoulders. 

Then there was a knock at the door on the other side of the room. “That’s him,” Maz said. “Hold on, laddie! Give her a minute!” Hera pushed the empty cart out of the room and headed back to wherever she came from. “Do you know what goes on on a lady’s wedding night, lassie?”

Maz put both hands on her shoulders, and Rey nodded nervously. “Good. Tis na pleasant the first time, but just let him lead you. Men find the act much more pleasurable than women do.” Maz then took her hands, looking at the gold and diamond ring that Ben had placed on her finger just that morning. “But the laddie cares for you, lass. I’m sure he’ll be gentle.”

Maz left, and Rey knew that was her cue. “Come in,” she said toward the barrier.

* * *

Ben opened the door slowly. “Good evening.”

“Good evening,” Rey replied nervously. “One of your servants came and set up dinner, as you can well see.”

“We are blessed here at Scarif, Rey,” he said, walking toward the table and pulling out a chair for her, “to have the best cooks and kitchen in the county.”

Ben pulled her chair out for her, and she lowered herself down, closing her eyes in some sort of anticipation as he pushed her chair in. “Should you have a want for anything, they can get it for you, although, oranges can be quite difficult to get here except a few times a year.” 

“I doubt I’ll have a craving for oranges.”  _Never say never,_ she thought, remembering hearing something about women having cravings while they were with child. 

“I say that because I have such a liking for them.” Ben sat across from her, putting his napkin in his lap. “Ah - rack of lamb,” he said, observing the food on the table. “And Port.” He poured her a glass of the wine before pouring his own glass. “If you’d rather have water-”

“No, I like wine,” she said quickly, taking a much larger sip than was ladylike. If he noticed, he said nothing. 

“If you get a hankering for whiskey, I have quite the selection.” Of course he did; no Scotsman of his breeding would be caught dead or alive without a decent whiskey collection. “Do you like whiskey?”

Rey nodded, ‘no.’ “I’ve never tried any worth having.”

“Well, that’s a shame, but we can remedy this.” Ben cut into the lamb, putting some on her plate. “Hold on just a moment - I’ll go get us a bottle.”

He quickly stood from the table and went to his own rooms. He surely must be trying to get her drunk before the events began. Not that she opposed the idea at all - it might be the only way she could move through the night without fear.

“This is from my father’s distillery, just down the road,” he said, coming back into her room and shutting the door. “It’s not the most aged I have, but it’s sweet, which I thought you might enjoy.” He brought two glasses to the table and poured her a sip before pouring himself a much larger portion. “See if you like it before I give you more.” 

Rey brought the glass to her lips, taking a small sip, letting the caramel-colored liquid sit on her tongue for a bit before swallowing. “It’s like candy,” she said softly. “I’ll have more.” 

He smiled gently as he filled up her glass a wee bit. “Are your rooms to your liking?”

She nodded. “I didn’t think a view such as the one from the sitting room was possible,” Rey answered. “It’s gorgeous.”

“It’s yours to fill with whatever you wish, Rey. Please know that.” 

She watched as her husband took a sip of whisky, putting the glass down to cut into the lamb. 

“ _The laddie cares for you, lass_ ,”  she recalled Maz saying just minutes ago. Other than the fact that she was now his wife, she couldn’t imagine why.

“I hope to show you Chandrila and the rest of Scarif over the next few days, if you’d like,” he said, his eyes widening looking at her plate. “You haven’t touched your food. Are you ill?”

“No, no,” she said, brushing him off. “I’m fine.” 

“Rey,” Ben said softly, reaching across the table for her hand. She flinched, and he took her hand anyway. “You’re terrified.”

She shook her head. “I’m not scar-”

“But you are,” he interrupted. “What did Maz say to you?” He was rubbing soft circles into the palm of her left hand. 

“Nothing that I didn’t already know,” she answered, scared to meet the gaze that she felt upon her. 

“I’ve been so irresponsible.” Ben sighed, running his free hand through his black locks. “I didn’t think to discuss this with you in the carriage ride, because I was having such an enjoyable time telling you about your future home.”

She wanted to reply that he hadn’t been, that he had been very thoughtful, but she couldn’t find the ability to speak. “Ben…”

He let go of her hand. “But you do know what happens in a marriage bed, Rey?”

She swallowed, nodding. “Aye.” She decided to be brave, and she sat up straight, looking him head-on.

“I made a vow to worship you with my body, but I also made a vow to protect you, and it would be most ungodly of me to break that vow by forcing you.” 

Rey was not _not_ attracted to this man. On the contrary, she was very much attracted to him. And he’d been so very kind to her since he’d discovered her in Glenshee, making sure she had everything she needed before becoming his wife.

He looked up at her with a soft gaze. “I want you to be happy here, Rey. I truly do.” He reached across the table for her hand again. “I’m your husband - it’s my duty to you to see to it that you’re happy.”

_He is strange_ , she thought.

“I will not force you,” he repeated, taking another sip from his glass, “but I figure you are a maid, and might be having some nerves about this.”

She nodded again. “Yes, I’m...” She stopped, not able to say the words aloud.

“Do not be frightened - not around me.”

This gorgeous, kind man was her husband.

Rey somehow knew that despite having just only met this man three weeks prior, he was forever for her. 

Her _husband_. 

* * *

It was still not yet eight in the evening, so they retired to her sitting room after their dinner. Rey was able to eat after she decided she might as well enjoy herself, regardless of what this evening brought her.

They spent hours asking each other random questions, likes and dislikes, favorites, and so on.

“Do you miss Glenshee?” he asked. It was her village, a far way from Scarif.  
  
“It’s lovely, but, well… no. No, I do not,” she replied. She thought of the inn and Plutt, the place where she had been dropped by her vagabond parents when she was but a wee lass of five. Why a duke had insisted on making a barmaid his wife was beyond her, but she wasn’t in the position to ask. She hoped, for his sake, and maybe her own, that no one in Chandrila or Alderaan figured out the truth about their duchess and would-be duchess’s past: that she was an orphan with nothing. 

“Some consider that area to be the Highlands, but I do not,” Ben said, pouring Rey more water. “This is the Highlands.” He pointed out the window. “I hope that we can spend tomorrow going over the estate, if you’d like. It’s now yours, too.” 

He desperately wanted her to feel comfortable, she realized, and for that she was grateful. “I would enjoy that.”

Ben nodded. “Good. No one expects us to be at the local chapel tomorrow morning, I’m sure.” He had told her about the chapel a mile away that he attended on Sundays when he was here. “They might still believe me to be in Inverness, though I’m sure that Maz will tell them the news.

Rey took a sip of her water. “Maz runs the house?” 

“Yes, and tended to my mother before she moved back to Theed. The house needed a woman, still, though, but the duties of running a household are now yours, formally, at least.” 

She nodded. Rey knew nothing about running a household, let alone a staff of twenty-something people - she knew how to run an inn pub.

She watched him swirl his own whisky in the glass. “Mother and Uncle Luke will be expecting us soon, no doubt.” He took a sip. “And we’ll have to visit Varykino. It’s on Loch Himsdale, north of here. It’s beautiful.” 

He took her hand again. The look in his eyes was sincere, as if he wished to soothe her fears; like he wanted to talk to her like he would an old friend. “I want you to see Scarif, to see Chandrila, and eventually Alderaan as your home, Rey, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

She nodded, smiling to herself. God had blessed her, surely.

“I’d like to kiss you, wife, if you’ll allow it,” he said, watching her face for a reply.

“You don’t have to ask,” she answered, biting her lip. “You... you’re allowed everything.”

He shook his head. “Only if you give me permission,” he explained.

She gulped before shaking her head, nervous. “You may kiss me, husband.”

Ben smiled, and the silence was so deafening that Rey could hear his breath expel from his nose when he inched closer to her.

When their lips met, she was certain that the world had stopped spinning. Between his hands on her waist and his lips on her own, she was sure that this must be what heaven felt like. His thumbs rubbed gentle circles on her ribs, and before she knew it, he was biting her lip gently, asking for something more.

“What?” she asked, somehow knowing that he needed something.

He pulled away from her, but only slightly. “Open your mouth just a bit, and I want you to mimic my own movement.”

She nodded, and before she knew it, his tongue was in her mouth, chasing her own. She did as he said, and with her tongue began to repeat his actions. She decided that she liked it quite a bit.  


They played a game of lips and tongues and teeth for what might have been hours, but they were very enjoyable hours.

”I want to be with you, very badly,” he said when they’d both come up for air after one of their bouts of kisses. “We can stop whenever you wish. Just tell me, and I’ll stop.”

Rey was of a few minds: 

One, this man was practically a stranger, but he was her husband. This was going to happen at one point or another - it might as well be on her wedding night.

Two, even though he was practically a stranger, he made her feel safe, and he didn’t feel like a stranger. She felt as if she’d known him longer, somehow. 

Three, she wanted this, whatever it was he would give her. She wasn’t sure why, but she did.

Women had been laying with men since the dawn of time. Men they’d known for years and men they’d only just met. If they could do it, so could she.

”Okay.”

* * *

Ben carried her back into her room, which had a glow cast about it by the robust fire and delicate candles. It was as if everything had been made for this very moment.  


Maybe it _had_.  


They rid themselves of their robes, and they stood before each other in only their nightclothes.

He lay her on her back, and kneeled between her thighs. “I’m going to kiss you here,” he said, touching her through the gown. 

“That will feel good?” she asked, her heart pounding in her chest. 

He raised his eyebrows and smirked. “I should hope so. If it does not, just tell me.”

She nodded and closed her eyes as she felt him lift her gown. Heavens, she could feel her pulse there, at the apex of her legs. She jumped when she felt him begin to kiss the soft skin of her inner-thighs, and got a chuckle out of him. “I shan’t bite you unless you ask, if that is what you fear,” he said.

“Why would you bite me?”

“Well,” he paused, looking up, their eyes meetings, “you smell so divine right here,” he said, burying his nose in the thatch of dark curls, “you might be good enough to eat.”

She gasped, and her eyes widened as he went about doing as he’d promised: to kiss her there. His eyes never left hers until she felt one of his fingers go inside of her and she tossed her head back onto the pillows. 

He was right: this did feel good.

The sounds of his lips working at her core were lewd and addictive, and from what she could tell, he seemed to be enjoying himself. 

Slowly, he slid another finger in, and her breath hitched. “Are you alright?”

She wanted to respond, but was having trouble coming up with words as his fingers began to move. “I’m, um...”

“Just nod yes or no,” he said with a slight smile. She nodded yes. “Ah, well. Good.”

He went back to the task at hand, using his tongue and fingers in tandem. His free hand travelled under her nightgown and to her breast, toying with her left nipple. 

With one hand, she ran her fingers through his hair, and the other, she clutched the hand that squeezed her right breast. 

Suddenly, he stopped, looking up at her, where their hands touched, separated by cloth. “You’re beautiful, you know,” he said before returning to his job. 

Rey felt something begin to build up inside of her. From where, she wanted sure. She let out a wee grunt, and bit her cheek. 

“You’re close,” he said. Somehow, she knew what he meant. “That was fast.”

He pumped his fingers faster, bending his fingers to hit just the right spot as he continued to use his tongue on her.

Rey felt her body seize up, and all of the gentle hairs on her skin stand on edge, giving her goose flesh. And then a ripple effect streamed throughout her body, as if this was water and her body was a steep creek bed. Then it was as if she was floating as she came down from her high, catching her breath.

“Enjoy that, did you?” He asked, looming overhead.

“I... yes,” she said, wiping her brow.

He smiled. “Good,” Ben whispered.

Rey noticed his erection had made a tent of hislong shirt, and she was frightened and intrigued all at once. How was that thing supposed to fit inside of her? “What, just Rey?”

He knew exactly what. “You look awfully long.”

He chuckled, touching himself. “I’d like to think so. Are you scared this won’t fit?” She nodded, blushing, which was hard today pot, given she was still red all over from his previous ministrations. “I swear to you, it will.”She believed him - he hadn’t led her astray so far. “Are you having second thoughts? We can stop this now, if you wish.”

No, she decided. They would be man and wife tonight, so he couldn’t send her back to Plutt, although, she didn’t believe he’d be capable of that. He seemed too much of a gentleman, despite his current state of undress.

“No,” Rey replied softly. “I want this. I want you.”

His face softened. “I want you, too.”

For a man whose body was so obviously filled with lust, he said it in a way that made her feel certain that he was being sincere - that he wanted her in more ways than this, but that this was good, too.

Rey watched as he rid himself of his shirt, revealing all of himself to her. The glow of the fire and candlelight danced across his pale skin. “You can take yours off, too. I’d like to gaze upon you, as well,” he spoke.

She stood from the bed, untying the collar and pulling it over her frame, unashamed, brave.

Without much thought, she reached out and put a hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. “Mine’s beating fast, too,” she said. He placed his larger hand over her small one.

Rey wasn’t sure how long they stood like that, or when exactly they decided to gaze into each other’s eyes, but she’d never felt more peace in all of her life as she did in that moment.

His eyes were expressive, she noted, and he was looking at her as if she were other worldly, but not unwanted - like an angel.

“Will it always be like this?” she asked in a whisper.

Ben smiled softly, pushing her hair behind her ear. “I don’t know, but I hope so.” He gently pulled her to him, and kissed her as he had before. Was that her own essence she could taste on his mouth? It wasn’t unpleasant. 

She let out a gentle whine, an ask, though she wasn’t sure exactly what it was she yearned for.

“Don’t be afraid,” he spoke softly against her lips, “I feel it, too.”

This time, it was Rey who kissed Ben, not afraid.

Before she knew it, he had picked her up and placed her on the bed, her on the bed exactly where she’d been before. “Are you certain?”

She nodded. “I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life.”

He took himself in one hand, and with his other hand, took some of her arousal and smoothed it on himself, before gently gripping her hip. “You’re the best decision I’ve ever made,” he said with absolution.

Their eyes met and locked as he inched himself inside of her slowly. “Rey,” Ben whimpered. “Are you... are you...”

“I’m alright,” she replied, locking her ankles behind his back. “It pinches but it’s not unpleasant.”

Ben nodded as he continued to sheath himself until he was in all the way. “And here you were, terrified I wouldn’t fit. I should’ve made sure to have a mirror placed next to your bed, so you could see!” Rey laughed aloud, which brought a smile to Ben’s face. “Well, next time, then.”

They stayed like that for a minute before Ben could hardly stand it anymore, and began to thrust.

Maz was wrong - she was enjoying this. If Ben was enjoying this more, she’d love to switch roles, to switch bodies, so that she might feel his pleasure.

Ben leaned down to kiss her and he worked himself in and out of her body. “You feel so good,” he whispered in her ear. He kissed the shell of her ear and then moved down to her neck. “So tight - you were made for me.”

Was he made for her, though? He must’ve been. A gift from God, as repayment for her suffering.

She felt something - that same thing from before - building within her. “Is it supposed to get more intense?” she asked between breaths.

“Yes,” he whispered against her lips, his hand finding its way between her legs, gently rubbing in circles above where they were connected. She yelped, getting a laugh from her new husband. “You’ll alert the whole staff.” Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she grunted. “Although, I’m sure they expected this.”

He leaned down and kissed her again, rolling them over so that she was on top of him. “Ben... I don’t...”

“Sure you do,” he said gently, rubbing her hip. “You’ve got me to the hilt inside of you right now. What was I doing before?”

Rey sat up, her hands finding purchase on his ribs, she lifted slightly. “Sweet Christ, yes, that’s it,” she heard her husband say. His hand left her hips and went to her breasts, palming them. Rey began to mimic her own motions, and watched as Ben’s face contorted in pleasure. “Rey,” he exclaimed, touching her above where they were joined once more.

It was Rey’s turn to moan, and Ben sat up, embracing her. “I will come to you every night you wish for it, just Rey. Say the word and I will be in your bed.”

She continued on, burying her head in his neck. “Yes,” she replied, kissing below his ear. He took hold of her head to kiss her more properly.

“I’m not going to last much longer.”

Somehow, Rey knew what he meant, because she felt the same way. “Me, too.”

The feeling ran up from her right foot and hit her core. She wailed, locking her arms around his neck.

He picked her up, pulling her off of him, laying her down and in a rushed voice, asked, “May I finish on you? Please?”

She quickly nodded, and watched as he kneeled above her, his breathing extremely labored, pumping himself until his white spend was splattered across her stomach.

He crashed next to her on the bed, his breaths steadying.

His hand found hers, kissing her knuckles.

Rey Johnson was now Her Grace, Rey Solo, Duchess of Chandrila - wedded and bedded.


End file.
